We'll Get You Back
by BeingTaylor
Summary: After a fight with his boyfriend, Jack is abducted right off the streets of New York. With the determination of his friends in the 19th Precint, will Jack be found in time? Or will they follow the wrong clues and be too late? (The rating may change.)
1. Chapter 1

_I should really stop getting random ideas._

_disclaimer- yeah right, I totally own this. Not. _

* * *

Chapter One

"Yeah, I told him. He didn't take it well." A white hair young man said as he walked down the New York street in the wee hours of the morning. "He was just so...so... I don't even know how to describe him. But his reaction was not a good one."

"Oh, I'm sorry." A feminine voice said on the other end of the line. "This is all my fault-"

"No no. Tooth, baby, this was my fault. I shouldn't have done that. This is my fault." The male ran a hand through his hair in a frustrated manner.

"But-" She started.

"No 'buts'." He cut her off. "Don't worry, him and I will work through it. We always work through things. Now, you go to bed, get your beauty sleep, so you'll look bright and fresh in the morning for your exam."

He heard her sigh. "Alright. Be-be careful okay?" She warned.

"I will." He told her. "Good night, Tooth."

"Night, Jack. I'll see you this weekend." She replied before hanging up.

The young man slid his phone in his pocket right before someone grabbed his arm.

"Hey!" Jack cried out from shock as he landed on the ground. "What are you-" A sudden pain radiated from his cheek. The taller being overpowered him as Jack tried to get out from under the stranger.

The stranger grabbed ahold of Jacks wrists with one hand when the younger male went to push his attacker off. The older of the two then went to pull something out of his pocket. That's when Jack quickly struck, kicking the person below the belt - praying his attacker was a male. The stranger immediately let go of the captive wrists, letting Jack get out a few punches to knock the person off of him and onto the sidewalk.

Once the man was off of him, Jack sprang up and broke into a sprint. He could hear the groans of his attacker behind him. Jack reached back into his pocket and pulled out his phone and pressing one.

'Ring Ring Ring'

"Pick up. Pick up, pick up."

'Ring Ring Ring'

"Pickup. Pickup. Pick up."

'Ring Ring Ring'

"Pickuppickuppickuppick-"

"What do you want Jacks-" An older male's voice finally answered the phone.

"PITCH YOU HAVE TO HELP ME!" Jack all but cried, his voice frantic and laced with unadulterated fear.

"What's going on?" Pitch picked up on the tone of his boyfriend's voice.

"There's this guy-" Jack started but was cut off when someone grabbed him from behind. He dropped his phone, making it shut off, successfully ending the call.

"You're not getting away, kid!" The person who had attacked him moments before held him down to the ground.

"Get off of me you freak!" Jack tried to kick the stranger away from him.

"You're coming with me." The stranger said.

Then it all went black for Jack.

* * *

"Jack?" Pitch sat up straight when the phone line died. "Jack!?" His boyfriend had to be joking, right? "Jackson, please stop fooling around. This isn't funny." Quickly he hung up the phone and called Tooth.

"Hello?" She answered, sounded like she just woke up.

"Tooth," Pitch began.

"Pitch!" She gasped. "I-is there s-something I can d-do for you?" She stuttered.

"Have you seen Jack?" He asked.

"What?" Tooth was a bit confused.

"Jack, he just called a few minutes ago all worked up about something, sounding quite frantic. Then the phone went dead or something." Pitch told her.

Dread started filling both of their chests.

"I haven't seen him since this morning, but I did just get off the phone with him about 20 minutes ago. I believe he was walking on 67th." She told him.

"Alone?!" Pitch jumped, and immediately started heading toward the front door of his and Jack's apartment.

"I'm assuming." Tooth answered.

Pitch ran his fingers through his jet black hair. "Alright, I'm gonna go look for him. My apologies for waking you."

"No, no. Don't apologize. Please call me when you find him." She told him.

"I will, goodnight Tooth." He said before hanging up.

* * *

It took Pitch all of five minutes to reach 67th. His eyes scanned the area for his loving boyfriend when he kicked something, making it skid across the pavement. His gaze went downward to see a phone laying in a small puddle of blood.

Golden eyes widened in horror as he reached into his pocket for his phone.

"911, what's your emergency?"

After explaining where he was, what he was currently trying not to look at, he was told by the operator to stay where he was so the officers could take his statement when they got there. Then he hung up and slowly dialed Jack's number.

He had to know if that was his phone or not.

'Call'

'Ring Ring Ring'

Music started blasting from the phone on the ground.

"No." Pitch dropped his arm and just stared at the ringing phone laying in the red liquid. Dread filled his stomach as he heart all but disappeared. His vision got blurred edges like a scene on TV taking place in a dream. A sense of surreal fell over him like a smothering comforter.

His world would have shattered if he didn't have the tiniest shred of hope that Jack was okay.

Pitch had watched more than plenty crime shows on the Investigation Discovery channel. There was not enough blood on the ground for Jack to have been fatally wounded-yet. And maybe all his attackers want is money or something of monetary value.

Maybe Jack would be returned to him safely.

No,no. Pitch would personally make sure Jack would be returned safely, even if it was the last thing he did.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Pitch sat in the wooden kitchen chair with an untouched, cold cup of coffee in front of him. Running his fingers through his hair, he stared ahead at the empty seat Jack always sat in, on the other side of the table. Jack up at 4:30 in the morning with Pitch every day, doing the previous day's newspaper crossword puzzle.

This morning though, Jack was not there. He was not there with his cup of coffee flavored with Hazelnut cream. He was not there with his crossword puzzle. And he wasn't there joking about how he was acting like an old person.

No.

This morning, Jack was somewhere else. With strangers. Doing God knows what to him. For all Pitch knew, and deeply feared, Jack could be dead at that very moment. Or taking his last few breaths, bleeding out from some sort of horrible gunshot or stab wound. All alone in a place where they'd probably never find.

Pitch slowly shook his head, trying to clean the heart-breaking, depressing thoughts. He pushed the cup of coffee away and stood up from his chair. Attempting to think happy thoughts, well as happy as a thought could be in a situation like this. He made his way into the living room to grab yesterday's newspaper off the small end table and turned back to the kitchen, picking up a stray pen on the way. When he stood next to the table once more, he sat back in his chair and placed the paper and pen in their designated spot in front of Jack's chair.

And for a moment, Pitch could picture Jack sitting there struggling with an answer. But then the situation made the mental picture twist into something ugly, Jack never being able to start another puzzle, and disappeared.

"Jack," Pitch started, barely above a whisper, "where are you?" He dropped his head in his hands once more.

Nothing.

Jack couldn't see anything as blue eyes slowly blinked open. At first he didn't realize he wasn't waking up in his bed, or anywhere familiar to him, his head hurt too bad.

He groaned when he tried to move, pain shot up and down his arm, with the epicenter in his shoulder.

"Well, look who's finally awake." A voice spoke up from somewhere in front of him.

"Hmmm?" Jack tried to speak, only to find out he was gagged and his hands were tied together behind him.

"I gotta give you credit for putting up such a strong fight. A small thing like you can really pack a punch." The voice continued talking to him.

Jack tried to smirk the best he could. But a swift kick to his abdomen wiped the grin off his face.

"I wouldn't get too cocky, Jack." The voice knew his name. "You're going to be here a while."

"Mr. Black," Officer Nicholas St. North began. "Is there anyone you can think of, who would want to hurt Jack?" The investigator asked with his pen in hand.

Pitch slowly started shaking his hand. "No one comes to mind. Everyone Jack met seemed to like him. Never had an enemy as far as I'm concerned."

"So he never spoke of anyone who had the slightest of hatred toward him?" North asked to clarify. "Any possibility this could be a hate crime?"

Once again Pitch shook his head.

North tapped his pen on his little note pad, thinking. "Could this possibly a crime against you?"

The black haired male sat straight up. "Why-"

"If this is a crime against you, they could have gotten a hold of Jack to somehow hurt you." North continued.

"I'm... I'm not sure." Pitch thought back to any negative encounters with people he personally knew with in the last few months. "Actually, about a month ago, I had to fire a couple of employees from the office."

North immediately began writing. "What were they fired for?"

"Steeling money from the company." Pitch replied as he ran his fingers through his hair for the umpteenth time that day.

"What are their names?" North questioned.

"Onyx Shadow and Phil Yeti."


End file.
